


Sorry, did you say Vietnam??

by gh0st1nn1t



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: And Dave - Freeform, And His Siblings Try, BAMF Number Five | The Boy, Ben Hargreeves Is Amazing, Confused Luther Hargreeves, Gen, Good Sibling Vanya Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Not Beta Read, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Tags Are Hard, They All Find Out About Vietnam In The Most Casual/Confusing Ways, This Is Just Them Finding Out About Vietnam, We Die Like Ben, Worried Diego Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0st1nn1t/pseuds/gh0st1nn1t
Summary: Klaus had a tendancy to brush off trauma, whether it be his own or someone elses. When his siblings point out something to do with Vietnam, he answers casually, as if it was just some small talk.Basically all of the Hargreeves kids vaguely finding out about Vietnam in very confusing ways and still not being sure what the hell was happening.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, That Means Platonically
Comments: 27
Kudos: 609
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	1. Luther - Where'd you learn to cook this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luther and Klaus decide to watch a movie and bond, but Luther questions where Klaus learnt his new soup recipe and suddenly he's questioning absolutely everything.

Klaus hummed underneath his breath as he poured the soup into the two bowls. Luther was sorting out the movies in their living room, since they had installed a TV after Reginald died. Everyone else had gone out, so Klaus offered to make dinner since he knew Luther couldn't cook for shit. Plus, they used it as bonding time, since they had never been close at  _ all  _ and after the _ ir second  _ apocalypse, they tried to repair their family relationships.

They decided why not make an attempt while they had the choice.

Klaus carried the hot bowls up the stairs, cursing under his breath as some soup  _ almost _ spilled onto the stairs and instead onto the lap trays he had balanced on top of each other with the bowls on top. Finally, walking cautiously so as to not spill anymore, he got into the living room, seeing Luther sat in front of the DVD player, huffing as he couldn't get it to work.

"So," Klaus paused, carefully lifting the bowls from the trays and placing them onto the table and shaking his hand to get rid of the faint burn of the soup left, "What are we watching?" He slumped down onto the sofa, placing a tray onto his lap and a bowl on top, the chopsticks almost tumbling out.

"ET," Luther answered just as the opening scene began, and he hurried over to the sofa as to not miss it, copying Klaus with the tray and then the bowl, ignoring Klaus' amused snort. His eyes were glued to the screen as it began, his fascination for space overruling the conversation.

"Of course we are," He snickered, and Luther gave him a grin as they began watching, switching the chopsticks for the spoon that Klaus had left on the side of the tray knowingly.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just eating and watching the movie before Luther finally spoke up. 

"Where'd you learn to make this?" He asked, mouth full, hand covering it out of his mild attempt at politeness.

"Oh, easy, Vietnam," Klaus shrugged, continuing to eat as if he hadn't just told his brother something he had kept locked up and hidden for months. He ended up realising that they wouldn't ever know if he didn't tell them, so he decided 'just fuck it' and now, if they asked, he'd answer. Keeping it bottled up just made him stressed and tense up whenever anything remotely related to Vietnam was brought up.

Luther spluttered, almost spilling the contents of his bowl everywhere before finally swallowing the soup, his face morphed into a shocked expression. He knew he spent long on the moon, but when did Klaus, who hated flying and boats, travel across the seas to Vietnam? 

"Vietnam? When the hell did you go to Vietnam?"

"A little while ago. I learned it from some kind lady on the street. She was serving soup to the soldiers from a stall next to the bar, and I told her it was nice, and said she had no relatives to pass it onto so she wrote it down and gave it to me," Klaus spoke nonchalantly, as if he hadn't dropped a major bombshell onto Luther.  _ Vietnam? Soldiers? What? _

Luther placed the spoon back into the bowl, "Yeah, okay,  _ what soldiers _ ? When?" 

Klaus shrugged, simply continuing to eat as if Luther wasn't having an existential crisis beside him about his apparent trip to Vietnam with soldiers.


	2. Diego - Where's that scar from?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus is being dramatic on a hot day, leaving him to walk around in only a long skirt. Diego points out some old scars on Klaus and suddenly Diego's entire world is flipped upside down.

The day was swelteringly hot, and Klaus had at least four fans on in his tiny room along with all windows open. It felt like he was boiling alive, which was why his blankets were strewn across the floor along with his shirt. Sunlight beamed through his windows, streaming across his floor and definately not helping with the heat. 

He laid shirtless on his bed, the cold dogs tags right over his heart. His tight leather trousers were not helping, so he’d replaced them with a loose grey flowy skirt he’d ‘borrowed’ from Allison years ago. His insides seem to melt and sweat dripped down his forehead. 

Once he had finally dragged himself out of bed, he stumbled into the kitchen, needing a drink that wasn’t the disgustingly warm water on his nightstand.

As he grabbed a water bottle, he heard Diego speak up behind him, startling him, as he didn’t even know Diego was in the house. “Woah, bro, where’d you get that scar?” 

Klaus whirled around, almost hitting his shoulder on the open fridge door, seeing Diego sat on the edge of the table, knife tossed around his hand. “Which one?”

“The massive one on your back,” Diego stated, as if it was obvious, despite the numerous scars littering all of their bodies due to their ‘training’ as kids. Klaus knew he probably should've expected Diego to be talking about that one, as it was an angry pink from being badly healed and ran from the right side of his neck to his left hip bone

“Oh, that one. Got that from Hazel and Cha-Cha. How thoughtful that they left a souvenir,” He shrugged it off, shutting the fridge and leaning against it as he began uncapping his water and drinking. “If we’re playing guess the scar, what’s that one?” He gestured to the jagged white line on the back of his hand.

“That was when I put my hand under my pillow and forgot there was a knife there.”

“There's a knife under your pillow?”

“There’s not a knife under yours?”

Klaus stayed quiet, which was probably for the best, until Diego broke the ice again. “You look like shit,” he commented.

Klaus fanned himself dramatically, “Why thank you.”

Diego took notice of the small circular scar on his upper arm, with a thin line through it, almost identical to the one on his calf and the one next to his belly button. He narrowed his eyes in confusion, similar scars were normal, but practically identical? “And those three?” He nodded towards the one on his shoulder.

Klaus shrugged nonchalantly, “Oh, bullet wounds. Vietnam.”

Diego's eyes practically bulged out of his head. Just as he started sputtering questions, Klaus took another sip and strode out from the room, leaving Diego to question everything he knew.


	3. Allison - Since when did you have steady hands?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus swings by Allisons room to do makeup together, like when they were kids, only now Klaus suddenly has the steadiest hands Allisons ever seen and all previous tremors have dissapeared?

Klaus swings himself around Allison’s doorway, hand perched on the archway and head popping around the corner. “Hey, Ali.”

Allison turned to face him, makeup brush half-way to her face, smiling. “Hey, Klaus.”

His eyes lingered on the makeup scattered around her desk, and he practically sprinted over, “Budge over,” he grinned at her, grabbing an extra stool and nudging her over to see into the mirror too. He snatched the brush from her hand, ignoring her jokingly offended scoff.

"Go on then," Allison tilted her head, closing her eyes. She had known Klaus long enough to know that if he saw you doing makeup, he would join in, every time. Occasionally he would just do it for you, or he'd do his beside you. And Allison remembered when they were kids, when they'd cheer each other up by doing each other's makeup.

Klaus finished her eyeshadow quickly, as she had just done plain blue on her eyelids and white in the corners. She grabbed the eyeliner, offering to do it for him after she did hers. Klaus had always had shaky hands with sweaty palms so he’d never been able to do eyeliner himself.

He just grinned and shook his head. “You do yours, I’ll do mine. You got a spare pencil?” 

Stunned, Allison handed him an extra eyeliner pencil. She didn’t end up doing hers, just watching in awe as Klaus nailed his absolutely perfectly, no shaky hands, no tremors, nothing.

“Klaus, since when could you do your own eyeliner properly?” She asked just as she began doing her own eyeliner, lifting her arm as Klaus tried to grab a black lipstick. The confusion seemed to be getting to her, as her hands were shaking slightly. It was barely noticeable, but she could tell.

She knew when Klaus left the academy he did his own, but it was always messy and smeared and shaky. But now it was better than most of the makeup artists she worked with.

“Since Vietnam,” He answered simply, and her hand froze. 

“Vietnam?” She echoed, trying to reassure herself it was just some joke as she resumed her makeup, hand slipping once or twice.

“Yeah, Vietnam. You gotta have steady hands there, or else Colonal will yell at you, trust me, I know,” he spoke amusedly, as if whatever the hell he was talking about made any sense at all. He turned to her with a grin as he put the lipstick back, “All done! See ya!” He sauntered out.

The shock got to her and she jabbed herself in the eye with the pencil twice.


	4. Five - When did you get such good aim?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five had been practicing his aim in the shooting range when Klaus strutted in, noise-cancelling headphones over his ears as he snatched the gun from him and Five stood still, stunned.

Five had tried to destress by snatching a gun from the wall and storming into the shooting range that Reginald had insisted get installed. When he heard footsteps approaching, he expected it to be one of his siblings, lecturing him on training himself all day.

When he turned his head, he saw Klaus strutting in, a pair of noise cancelling headphones twirling around between his fingers, a shit-eating grin on his face as he fake-cooed, "Awe, look at him, our little psycho," he ruffled Five's hair, snickering as Five protested, slapping his arm away. “What are you doing here? Pretending the target is Luther?”

Five rolled his eyes, “Destressing, asshole.”

“Only the Hargreeves would be destressed by shooting a gun,” he laughed. Klaus looked towards the target, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Listen, Five, this sounds like a real rager, but your aim sucks," he watched as Five scoffed. 

"I'd like to see you do better," Five sneered, jutting the gun away from him and into Klaus' chest. 

Klaus smirked, "Gladly," he placed the headphones over his ears, and snatched the gun out of Five's hands, examining it. "I've used one of these before. This'll be a slice of cake," He grinned, eyes narrowing as he aimed the end of gun right in the middle of the target. 

He fired ten shots, all landing in the exact same spots, some bullets shattering from the impact of hitting the others. Klaus swirled around, handing the gun back as he slipped the headphones down with a bragging grin. "Told you, lil bro."

"I'm 50 years older than you," Five deadpanned, waiting for Klaus to get out of the way to see how he did. Klaus sidestepped, and Five's eyes widened as he saw all ten shots had landed in the middle, in the same tiny spot. His first shot had landed in the precise middle, and all 9 others had gone through the hole made by his first bullet. "Holy shit. How'd you do that?"

Klaus let out a loud laugh as he ruffled Five’s hair again, ignoring the “Stop doing that!” Five barked at him.

“Seriously, since when could you shoot a gun better than me? You always refused to participate in gun training as kids,” Five said, eyes narrowed as his face was painted into a suspicious expression.

“I used to have one that was almost the exact same model. Looks like I beat you, little man,” He winked at Five’s dumbfounded expression before sauntering back out of the room.

Five just stood there gaping.


	5. Vanya - Where'd you learn that story?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya was relaxing in the library, reading some book from the 1960s made by a vietnamese author when Klaus practically bounced in and snatched the book from her hand.

Vanya had always found music relaxed her, but after the whole ‘almost ending the world using a violin’ incident, she had resorted to books until her powers were controlled enough to pick up her violin again. She laid back into the tall red armchair, an old book perched on her lap as she turned on the lamp beside her.

She picked it up, admiring the aged pages and slightly faded words. Just as she got to the fourth paragraph, Klaus bounced into the room, grinning.

“Hey, Vanny, whatcha doing?” “Reading. Klaus, what do you want?” Vanya gave him an exasperated smile, letting him know she was just joking around.

“What are you reading?” Klaus took a seat on the arm of Vanya’s chair, snatching the book from her hands, ignoring her brief protest. “Ah, I read this, met the author too, she was real nice.”

“Klaus, whoever you met was lying to you, the author died in 1969, a year after it was published. She lived in Vietnam her whole life anyway,” Vanya rolled her eyes.

“I know,” He shrugged, pretending not to see Vanya’s eyes widening. “I read it the year it came out. She was promoting it just outside of the shop across from the disco, I bought one off of her,” He grinned at Vanya, flipping through the book (making sure to keep Vanya’s bookmark in the right place. He was a joker, not a monster).

“Hold on, what? You weren’t born until 81, when did you go to 68? And when did you go to Vietnam?” Vanya fumbled over her questions, scrunching up her nose as Klaus pat her head.

“Time travel, Vanny, remember?” Klaus tried to deflect.

“No, you said you got stuck in 61, and then we got back here in 63, and that was in America, not Vietnam. Klaus, what the hell are you talking about?”

Klaus simply shrugged and handed her book back. “Happy reading, Van,” he smiled at her over his shoulder before he exited the library.

Vanya was left staring after him, millions of questions bouncing around inside her head.


End file.
